


Decoherence (I)

by zulu



Series: Decoherence [1]
Category: House M.D., Traders
Genre: 07-03, Crossover, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-04
Updated: 2007-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:30:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zulu/pseuds/zulu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One interpretation of quantum mechanics claims to resolve all the paradoxes of quantum theory by allowing every possible outcome to every event to define or exist in its own "history" or "world", via the mechanism of quantum decoherence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decoherence (I)

**Author's Note:**

> Although each story stands alone, this can be read with Decoherence (II) and Decoherence (III). March 4, 2007.

The shuffling starts three minutes before the hour is up, but Professor Ross arches one perfect eyebrow and the class goes still. "Thank you," she says, each word falling precisely into the silence. She details the week's readings, and then, with a slight smile, dismisses them. Lisa Cuddy is heading for the door when Professor Ross calls her over.

"Lisa," she says, as she gathers a stack of essays. "Do you have a moment?"

"Yes," Lisa says, although she doesn't; Dr. Carver is hell on people sneaking in late. Still, there's a brightness in Ross's eyes and an inviting tilt to her head that shows off the amused curve of her lips and the long line of her neck. Lisa has time.

"I wanted to go over the grade on your last essay," Ross says, heading for her office.

Lisa keeps pace beside her. Sally Ross walks like a queen, like she's the mistress of all she surveys. Right now she's surveying Lisa, watching her out of the corner of her eyes. Lisa wants to shiver. She feels the frisson growing along her spine, like the breathless surprise of a static shock, but she doesn't show it. She dreams of having as much control as Ross does, of holding an entire institution in the palm of her hand, and that doesn't start by showing weakness to anybody.

"I know it wasn't as strong as my last assignment," Lisa says, when they've reached Ross's office.

"A B isn't like you," Ross says. She leans back on her desk, her hands resting on the dark polished wood beside her hips. She nods for Lisa to close the door. They face each other across three feet of space that feels like less, and Ross's smile has grown more knowing and more pleased. Lisa stares at her lips, the generous, sensuous bow of her mouth; she wonders what Professor Ross would look like if Lisa tore away the carefully pressed suit to the silk and lace that she imagines underneath.

"Professor," she begins, and swallows.

"Sally," Ross corrects, so gently, as if she doesn't notice the air in her office turning desert-hot and stifling.

"I can do better," Lisa breathes.

"Show me," Sally says, and her back arches faintly, like an offering.

There _is_ silk beneath the suit jacket, when Lisa pushes it off Sally's shoulders with hesitant fingers. The material is warm from Sally's skin, and Lisa lets her hands drift down to Sally's waist before she looks up into her eyes.

"Better," Sally agrees, her eyes twinkling with humour, and then she tips Lisa's head back and touches their lips together. The kiss lasts one fleeting second, and then it's over and Lisa wants to gasp, to catch her breath before it's lost entirely. Before she can, Sally kisses her again, swallowing her panting breaths.

_Silk_, Lisa thinks, as her hands move to the supple sway of Sally's breasts, brushing across her nipples through her blouse and bra. She tastes Sally's moan on her tongue. Moments later she's found the buttons, the clasp, and then the zipper on Sally's pants; the parting whisper of fabric makes her skin flush hot and wanting. She leans forward to take Sally's nipple in her mouth, slow soft licking as she cups her breast.

"You _are_ good," Sally says on a gasp, more confirmation than surprise in her voice.

"I'm the best you'll ever see," Lisa promises, and slides her fingers against Sally's panties, thinking of the humid heat of endless summers; she touches wetness and hums into the side of Sally's throat.

"_Oh_," Sally says, the word long and drawn out and astonished, like she's forgotten how good this can be. Her muscles relax until her legs spread open and inviting. Lisa circles her fingers around Sally's clit like she doesn't have anywhere to be for the rest of the day; but Sally comes so hard and so fast that Lisa wonders how long she's been waiting for this. Even as Sally kisses approval into the skin beneath her jaw, Lisa is learning. Lessons from Professor Ross: _never act before the moment is right_, and _never regret once you choose to act_.

Lisa doesn't regret this. Sally's hands, surprisingly small, have found their way into her jeans, and her knuckles graze across Lisa's clit and then go further, until Lisa feels a finger sliding into her. Sally moves, then, pushes Lisa around until she is the one pressed against the desk. She can feel the push of the wood under her butt and Sally's finger moving inside her, a single inch at a time, in and out so quickly that there is only that motion, that sensation, in the entire world.

Lisa wants to scream, but she thinks of students passing in the halls and she bites down hard on her lip. Then Sally covers her mouth and kisses her hard, sucking at her tongue, and at the same moment she presses her thumb hard against Lisa's clit. The world explodes, pleasure pulsing through her thighs, her muscles squeezing against Sally's fingers.

"Quick study," Sally whispers in her ear, and then it's over.

When Lisa looks up from fixing her clothes, Sally is just slipping back into her suit jacket. Lisa sees the blush on her skin, and a bright red mark that she doesn't remember leaving, being covered by the impeccable tailoring, the unassailable image of Professor Sally Ross.

"You know how to apply yourself," Sally says, her voice warm with approval and a hint of irony. "I can tell you're going to go far, Lisa."

"Thank you, Professor," Lisa says. She feels at once like there should be more to this moment, and that they've said all they need to say. She opens the door to Ross's office, turning to leave.

"And, Lisa?" That cat-content voice again; low and satisfied.

"What?" she asks, impatient now, ridiculously late for Carver's lecture.

"About your essay. This _is_ an ethics course," Sally says. "The B stands."


End file.
